


you’re leaving (now i’m left amongst the living)

by peppermintpatties



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Alex's kind of love story is much more Shakespearean, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Hospitalization, Lawyer Alex, M/M, No Beta, Past Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Writer Henry, and then they were exes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:48:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29066082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peppermintpatties/pseuds/peppermintpatties
Summary: Six years since they've been together, Alex and Henry were now a far cry from the lovestruck couple they once were when their history began. If you ask Alex, all of it was Henry’s fault. If you ask Henry, he’d agree and say that Alex was right.But before Alex could ever find out why Henry does not seem like the man he once decided to spend the rest of his life with, he already walked away from it all. Now, Henry was alone, left to deal with whatever shattered remains he could salvage from his life.Or, the one where Henry’s sick and Alex only finds out two years after they've broken up.
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor
Comments: 26
Kudos: 115





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i'm finally writing a chapter fic for firstprince (noimnotfreakingoutandiwasntnervouspostingthisatall) :D

“Christ, I’m pathetic,” Henry murmured to himself.

It was a statement that would’ve warranted a lot of _no, that’s not true_ and _what did I say about making self-deprecating jokes_ and the classic _don’t say that you’re great_. Instead, he was met with silence, which was to be expected, of course, since he was alone in his bedroom. On a Friday night. Perhaps before everything went to shit, he might have been on a date with the love of his life, but alas, the universe doesn’t favor him that much. Instead, he resorted to checking if said love of his life is happy, at least. He was definitely _not_ stalking his Instagram profile.

Henry scrolled. _Him_ in D.C. with his sister and best friend. Scroll. _Him_ with Liam and Spencer out for lunch. Scroll. _Him_ at the Lake House in Texas, feasting on some barbecue. Scroll. _Him_ and his precious binder for his cases at work. Scroll. _Him_ and—

 _Oh_.

If his sickness decided not to take him, Henry was absolutely sure a heart attack would gladly do the honors.

A huge part of him was certain he would never see his face again on his ex’s account, but the happier version of Henry was staring right back at him from the screen. He could still vividly remember all the details of that photo, no matter how much he tried to erase it from his mind.

There was Henry: with shining bright blue eyes, tousled sandy hair, and a rare genuine smile. Beside him was the boy he fell so deeply in love with all those years ago. Alexander Claremont-Diaz. Only one side of his face was shown in the photo because he was half turned, kissing Henry on the cheek, but the smile on his face was just as bright if he was fully facing the camera too. God did Henry miss that smile. More importantly, he missed the smile Alex has specifically for _him_ because Henry never saw that smile again in the last few months of them being _AlexandHenry_. Now they were just Alex, Henry.

As much as Henry often checks his social media to see updates on Alex’s life, he doesn’t really think about it too much. Just getting his questions answered whether Alex was doing alright and healthy and happy was enough for him. He promised himself that he wouldn’t allow his thoughts to spiral again because it wouldn’t end well for anyone. And also, he might have promised his doctor he would try to start over. _Try_.

Anyway, Henry wasn’t really supposed to be lurking on Instagram right now. The truth was he was too much of a coward to really finish what he was set on doing tonight before he personally has the right to continue being a couch potato for the rest of the night.

But he just couldn’t do it.

There was a sudden knock on his door causing Henry to give a little start and hold onto his phone tighter.

Pez invited himself in. “Hey babe, wanna watch a movie? I heard Price and Prejudice is on Netflix now. Also, I’ve got you some Jaffa cakes.”

Henry should’ve said okay and that he’d love to, but all he managed to do was stare at his phone screen in horror. “Oh my fucking Christ,” he exclaimed. “Shit shit _shit_. Fucking fuck.”

“Normally you’d be a lot giddier at the thought of staring at that Darcy fella again—”

“Pez,” Henry moans. “I did something terrible.”

Pez sat on his bed beside him. “Care to share with Auntie Pezza?”

Henry mumbled something.

“What was that?”

“I accidentally liked his post on Instagram,” he says in a louder, much more miserable voice. “I got surprised when you barged in here and I didn’t notice that my thumb was pressing on the heart thing. _Fuck_.”

Pez looked stricken. Henry could’ve been pertaining to any other man in the world, and yet his best friend knows that there’s only ever one _him_ for Henry. He mentally stored the thought away for now; he’d unpack its implications when he predictably lies awake much later, as his insomnia is still being an absolute bitch. “Please tell me it was the most recent post.”

Ashamed, Henry said nothing.

“ _Henry_ ,” Pez urged him.

“It was from two years ago,” Henry says dejectedly.

“Oh my fucking Christ,” Pez repeated his best friend’s initial reaction. “No no no. Wait. Just unlike it!”

“Too late. He probably received the notification for it by now,” Henry says with a groan.

There was a minute of silence that followed. Both men seemingly in mourning of Henry’s pride and dignity.

Always finding the light in every situation, Pez looked at Henry and says wryly, “Was he hot in the photo at least?”

“It was the last photo of us he has in his Instagram,” Henry says quietly.

Pez’s gaze softened. He put an arm around his best friend and guided Henry’s head towards his own shoulder. The other man complied easily and settled himself in a more comfortable position, still clinging to Pez. The latter thought he looked like a kid who was sent home early from school because he got sick. How ironic. “Are you really alright, darling? I know what day it is.”

Henry let out a heavy sigh, and Pez knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t exaggerating in the slightest. “Yeah, I’m fine. Really,” Henry says. And then with a tinge of nervousness in his voice, he blurts out, “I’m thinking about selling it.”

“Are you sure about this?” Pez asks. Not _don’t, you’ll regret it_ , or something like _what a waste though_. He only wanted to make sure Henry was fully certain of his own plan. Truly, he doesn’t deserve Pez’s friendship.

“Ninety-nine point nine percent. I could use the money for my treatments and for the shelter,” Henry tells him. He’s been thinking about this for months now, and he’s finally decided to push through with it now.

“You know there’s no need for that. You’re filthy rich, babe,” Pez gave him a slight nudge with his shoulder.

Henry snorted. “Probably just filthy.”

“What did I say about your self-deprecating jokes?” Pez says to him with narrowed eyes. _Here we go_ , Henry thinks.

“That I should just say them when neither you nor Bea is around?”

“Bloody idiot.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Henry retorted back. And then he adds, “Oh, and Pez?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve met my quota for Jaffa cakes this week already.” A glum smile.

“Oh, babe. Looks like we’ve got just more than your dignity to mourn tonight.”

***

Henry’s plans of being one with his couch for the entire weekend didn’t go well as Pez dragged out of bed him first thing on a Saturday morning, telling him that a little sun would be good for his too pale complexion.

He was surprised himself that he woke up feeling a lot lighter than how he was yesterday—and the week before that—and he didn’t know when it would settle back on him, so Henry decided to take advantage of it and agree to accompany Pez to the shelters.

“Let’s go, we’re gonna be late!” Pez called out from the kitchen of his flat.

Henry rolled his eyes even though the other man wasn’t around to see it. “We’ve still got an hour!” he called back.

When they got there, Henry was instantly plunged into a wave of nostalgia. He remembered being here for almost every day, getting to know the kids personally, having memorized their names, working with the staff, helping Pez improve the facilities. But the weeks after his surgery was hard. Not only for his body, but for his mental and emotional well-being as well, and so he and Pez agreed that it was best if Henry first recovered. He felt guilty for it, thinking that he had failed the kids who have come to trust him and whom he’s promised to see often. And then one typical Tuesday morning, a package came for him. Henry opened it to find almost a hundred handwritten get-well-soon cards and heartfelt messages and wholesome stick drawings.

Apparently, the kids asked about him, and when they found out he was recovering from a sickness, they all got together to do this.

“Henry!” an extremely excited voice interrupted his thoughts. “You’re back!”

“Guys, it’s Henry! Henry’s here!”

“Don’t crowd him!”

“Ow, someone stepped on my toes!”

“It was Michael.”

“It wasn’t me!”

Once Henry managed to catch his breath after being almost trampled by a dozen kids, he says with a laugh, “I missed you all very much.”

“Oh, yeah?” a voice called out from the back—Leila. “Who did you miss the most?”

One of the older kids gave a huff and said, “It’s obviously me.”

“It’s me!”

“Ha! You wish.”

“Alright,” Henry attempts to placate them. “Why don’t we settle this matter inside?”

***

Henry felt like he was just subjected into doing the longest interview in the history of interviews. The children had so much energy and even more questions for him. He was touched by how concerned they were for him, truly, but with every response that he comes up with, he feels his social battery draining fast.

Pez and the other staff present with them sensed as much and called on the kids to the dining room for their lunch. He was just about to follow suit when he noticed a kid who got left behind. Gabriel—based on his name tag—was a small boy, who, just like Henry, has got a sickly pallor to him. His large, dark brown eyes was locked on him as he approached; his small fingers fidgeting with his leggings. He must’ve been new, since he wasn’t yet around at the shelter before Henry stopped visiting.

“Hello,” Henry says to him with a smile. He pulled up a chair so he could sit beside him. “I’m Henry.”

“Hi,” the kid mumbled. “My name’s Gabriel.”

“Nice to meet you,” he manages to say. Goddamn it. That fucking name. Henry gestured towards the door. “Aren’t you hungry?” His voice was a little hoarse now.

Gabriel shrugged, “Not really.” He seemed to be having an internal debate because after a moment he nervously asked Henry, “Are you sick too?”

Henry’s heart clenched at the question. “I was,” he says. “But I’m better now… well, I hope so.”

“I want to get better too,” Gabriel said sadly.

“You will.” Henry absolutely hates it when people say that to him so emptily, but he found words to be failing him lately, so all he could do at the moment was offer the kid that, too. At least he didn’t promise him that everything was going to be okay. He wouldn’t stoop that low.

Gabriel studied him for a moment. “How long before your hair started to grow back?”

Ah, one can really never hide anything from kids. Henry’s comfort beanie wasn’t able to save him this time. “Er, around a few months?”

“Oh _maaan_ ,” the kid complained. “That’s too long! I miss my curls.” Of course, he had to be curly haired, too. The universe really does hate Henry’s guts.

“If it’s any consolation,” Henry says in what he hoped to be a comforting manner, “I think you look rather handsome despite the lack of hair.”

Gabriel brightened at that. “I really do, don’t I? But that’s my best feature though.”

Henry laughed softly. “What’s the first thing you would want to do when you’re better?”

“ _Easy_. Visit the rest of my family in Texas.”

 _Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me_ , Henry thought. “You’re from Texas?” he says as neutral as he can.

“Well, yeah. My family moved here for my dad’s job, but we still visit them during the holidays. We just stopped last year because I started my treatments and my parents decided to allot our travel funds for that instead,” Gabriel explains.

Henry wondered what happened to the kid, how he ended up here if he has a family, but didn't ask. It wasn't his place after all. Before Henry could think of anything to say, Pez appeared at the doorway. Apparently, they were the only ones remaining here as everybody else, except for one of the staff who was busy putting away some things that were cluttered, went on to have lunch already. “There you are, Gab,” Pez exclaimed. “They’re looking for you, bud.”

At that, Gabriel said goodbye to Henry and went on to find his friends. Pez took his seat next to Henry and gave him a knowing look.

“What?” Henry asks.

Pez simply shrugged. “Nothing.”

“I know that look, Percy,” Henry sighed. “Why are you looking at me like that? Did I do something wrong?”

“Oh, nothing,” Pez shrugged. “Just the fact that no one’s been able to coax more than two proper sentences out of that kid ever since he got here, and yet here you are, having only met him today, holding out a proper conversation with him.”

Henry frowned. “You just said he has friends here.”

“He does, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t shy away from them when they invite him to play, or watch movies with him,” Pez says.

“Everybody just needs time to adjust,” Henry tells him. Silence. And then—

“He looks just like—”

“Don’t.”

“Henry—”

Henry let out a tired sigh. His best friend was looking too clearly into things. “He was a kid who needed company, and I, too, was in need of a company.”

“And?” Pez prompted.

“He never asked what my sickness was.” There it was. Henry couldn’t blame the rest of the kids for being curious about what happened to him, but quite honestly, he isn’t comfortable with sharing it with the others yet.

“Ah.” Henry thought that was the only thing Pez managed to say, but then he adds with a sly grin, “And because he looks like a mini version of A—”

Henry stood up immediately, desperate to get out of here all of a sudden. He called out to Pez as he did so, “Nope. Shut your bloody mouth.”

***

_“Hey, babe! Our bedroom looks fucking awesome. Wanna christen it?” Alex wiggled his eyebrows at him._

_“Christ, Alex,” Henry laughed. “We just got here, and we have like a hundred boxes to unpack!” He gestured towards their surroundings to prove his point, but he’d be lying if he says the same thought didn’t cross his mind. Hopefully, Alex wouldn’t notice how sweaty his hands were and more importantly, not look down to see his growing bulge._

_Unfortunately for him, his boyfriend doesn’t need to do any of those things to know what he also wants to do. The idea of moving into a brand-new place with the person you love the most, living with each other, being in each other’s presence every single day—well, Henry could never not get hard at that. And what better way to celebrate this milestone in their relationship by fucking his boyfriend on every clear surface they could find?_

_Alex sauntered towards where Henry stood and placed both of his hands on Henry’s hips. “I know you want to,” he says in a lower voice._

_Henry gulped. “June and the rest will arrive soon.”_

_“How much time to we have?”_

_“Uh, fifteen minutes?” Henry estimated. His voice was quivering now, his breath getting more ragged with each stroke Alex does up and down his ass._

_Alex gave him a smile that promised so many things. “Oh, I could make that work.”_

***

Henry woke with a start.

He hadn’t meant to fall asleep on the sofa, but after he got back home to his flat yesterday from his trip to the shelter with Pez, he was too tired to move after flopping down on it. The mild, but persistent headache he was sporting the entire ride home didn’t help at all either.

He grabbed his phone from the floor beside him—it always falls from his tossing and turning throughout the entire night—and checked the time. It was only seven in the morning, so he still has the luxury of not getting up yet.

Even after minutes of waking up, Henry still hasn’t managed to calm himself down. His hands were shaking and clammy, his heart was pounding a little bit too fast. It was always like this, especially when his dreams held the only good memories he has in his entire joke of a life. When he dreams of Alex.

Maybe this was the sign he’s been waiting for, Henry realizes. After all, what better way is there to let go of something so precious to you than by remembering how ridiculously happy you felt when you first grabbed hold of it?

Before his nerves get the better of him, Henry hastily reached for his laptop on the small glass table in front of the sofa, went back to the website he stared at for hours two days ago, and finally, finally pressed _post_.

There was no going back now.

***

Somewhere in Washington, D.C., one sleep-deprived and coffee-fueled Alex Claremont-Diaz was in front of his work desk, surrounded by endless annotated and highlighted papers that were being sorted out by him in his infamous binder.

There were surely other (healthier) ways for him to spend the early hours of his Sunday morning—take sleep, for instance—but anyone who knows Alex would have figured by now that he absolutely would resist the temptation of his bed, no matter how tired he is, until he’s finished with all the work he has on his to-do list.

Just as he turned off his desk lamp, his phone buzzed from a chat from Nora. What she was doing at two in the goddamned morning, Alex didn’t even want to know. He’s not here to judge either. Upon opening the notification, he saw that the message was simply a link, no explanations, no emojis, no _u awake??_ whatsoever.

Alex clicked on it and waited to be redirected to the website. He never got past the article title; having read it was already enough for him to feel as if the ground was slipping beneath him.

 _Brownstone Home for Sale—New York, NY_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more alex this time :)

Henry was having a good morning, all things considered. He felt as if a tremendous weight has been lifted off his shoulders, and now, for once in his terrible life, he supposes he could find some peace and quiet before having to rake his poor excuse of a brain again in order to write his upcoming book, and in turn, make a living.

Earl Grey tea and some toast. His usual. Although he wouldn’t admit it to anyone but himself, a company would be nice.

But he continued on, absently scrolling through random articles he opened on his phone, taking bites of his food. One minute he was reading about the announcement of a new The Great British Bake Off season airing next year, and the next, he was choking on his tea.

**Alex [8:02]:** are you kidding me

Henry checked the contact number. Once, twice, thrice. Even restarted his phone to make sure he really received that text message from the person he figured would never hear from again, and not just his fucked-up brain’s way of making him see things.

What would he even say? Does he really want to start down this road again? Bea would probably kill him, and Pez would tell him to add emojis, if they were here. But this is his life. For once, Henry wants to be the one to control it without the input of other people despite how much he cares for them.

And besides, this is Alex. It’s likely he just sent the text to Henry by mistake.

**Henry [8:11]:** What is this about, Alex?

There. That wasn’t so bad. Right? The seconds between his reply and Alex’s, Henry’s hands were shaking so hard he splashed more tea on his plate than drank it.

**Alex [8:12]:** you’re selling the brownstone

 **Henry [8:14]:** Yes. And?

 **Alex [8:17]:** you didn’t even think about telling me? a good ol’ “hey alex, i’m putting up our home for six years on sale. are you okay with that?” would’ve been good, but nope. you think of no one but yourself. classic, your highness.

 **Henry [8:19]:** I’m sorry. I didn’t think you would still want to know about what happens to it given that it is no longer your home, as you’ve said before.

 **Alex [8:22]:** look, i’m sorry. it just caught me off guard, is all. can we start over?

Well, isn’t that the million-dollar question. _Can we start over?_

Alex probably didn’t mean it the way Henry wanted him to years ago, but well, one can hope. As fickle as it may be.

As much as Henry wants to catch up with him, he also learned a thing or two about self-preservation. Of course, they’d carry on with the conversation as bloody friends, but Henry cannot simply pretend the history isn’t there. The big elephant in the room.

He doesn’t reply.

Henry decided that he would go on about his day as planned. He’d reach his daily word quota for his new novel, take a walk outside, clean his flat, rearrange his bookshelves, pick-up David from Bea’s place. He absolutely does not think about the last text notification that still awaits a reply.

Hours later, it seemed that some of the plans might have some minimal changes. First thing: Bea would be the one to drop David off at his flat (Henry invited his sister to stay for dinner as well and already made a mental note to order something nice). And the second thing, well… Henry stands by the fact that it was Alex’s fault for being so damn stubborn. Because when he checked his phone a while ago, he saw another text he missed when he was too engrossed into his writing.

**Alex [9:38]:** please, henry. it’s been two years after all.

This time, Henry sends out a reply.

**Henry [10:08]:** Maybe later when it’s not the devil’s hour where you’re at.

Across the Atlantic, Alex smiled and finally lets himself drift off to sleep.

***

_Another day has gone by, which means that Alex has survived yet again in this hell he calls 1L. Although his scheduled exams for today were finally over, that doesn’t mean he was free to relax. Oh, no. He still has a shit ton of papers to review and notes to revise for his other subjects._

_Alex would’ve done all this in the library at NYU, but he figured, after spending the past three days holed up in there and only going home when the librarian kicks him out, he needed a change of scenery. Like a coffee shop._

_Just as he enters the closest one to his school, he immediately curses all the romanticization of coffee shops in New York City because every single table was occupied. Well, shit. He was just about to head back out when someone spoke from beside him. “Excuse me, we can share the table if you’d like.”_

_Alex turns to look at him and—oh. He certainly wasn’t cursing this place now. A man around his age with big, blue eyes and fluffy blonde hair. He looks like a fucking model. He was smiling politely at him and gesturing to his table, which was located near a socket—just what Alex needs. A laptop was in front of him, as well as a notebook with some torn out pages. The seat across was empty, and the table was huge enough that their things would just fit perfectly without being overcrowded._

_Alex shot him a grateful look. “Are you sure?”_

_Blue-eyed blondie says, “Quite. I really don’t need all this space.”_

_“Well thanks, man,” Alex says as he places his bag on the empty chair. “You’re a lifesaver, really.” With that, he quickly went up to the counter and got himself an Americano._

_He returns to his new-found seat with a steaming cup of coffee, and after a while, blue-eyed blondie says to him, “So, law school, huh?”_

_“How’d you figure?” Alex asks with mild surprise. Was his eyebags really that obvious? He should really try that serum June sent him._

_But the blue-eyed blondie replies with a small chuckle, “Hoodie.”_

_Alex looks down at his clothes and laughed. He didn’t even notice he was wearing this one; he simply grabbed the first thing he could find in his mess of a closet this morning. This time, it was his turn to ask. “So, England, huh?” He shots back, mimicking how the man across from him said it before._

_He totally caught up in what Alex was doing and rode along. With an elegantly raised eyebrow, he asks, “How’d you figure?”_

_Alex smirked. “Accent.”_

_Blue-eyed blondie laughs. “I’m Henry.”_

_“See, even your name screams British royal family,” Alex says and then, “I’m Alex.”_

_Henry snorts and Alex finds it unfair that he can make it sound so posh, whereas if he emits that same sound, Nora would pretend to search for a pig nearby. “Believe me, I’m really not,” Henry says. “Nice to meet you, Alex. Is it based off Hamilton?”_

_“Yeah, my mom’s really a politics junkie,” Alex explains._

_Henry nods. “I see. You’re following your namesake’s footsteps then?”_

_“In being a lawyer, yes. In being a cheater, fuck no.”_

_And Alex thinks he really deserves some recognition here for having made Henry laughed twice now in the few minutes they’ve been talking._

_Still chuckling, Henry says, “Your ancestors are probably rolling in their graves hearing you say that.”_

_“And yours,” Alex retorts back, “are turning in theirs seeing as you’ve run off to one of your former colonies.”_

_Henry attempts a smile, but it quickly vanished. “I just had to get out of there. London. It’s hard being reminded of your dad when he’s not here anymore.”_

_Shit. “Fuck. Henry, I’m so—”_

_“It’s alright,” Henry assures him. “He passed away not that recently. I was just the one who still couldn’t get pass it. Trust me, I’ve already got the get-your-shit-together speech from my gran and older brother. Got sick of it all eventually, and now, here I am,” Henry tells him nonchalantly, as if he didn’t just spike a new sense of anger from Alex on behalf of him. Never mind that Alex doesn’t know who his gran and brother are as persons, but by that bit alone from Henry, it was enough._

_Alex, having sense that Henry desperately wants a change of topic now, veers them to a lighter one. “So, Henry. Tell me. What do you do?”_

_Relieved, Henry answers right away. “I’ve always wanted to be a writer, but I’m still currently working on that. For now, I work at the library in Columbia and help my best friend run his youth shelters for the LGBTQ,” he finishes with unmistakable pride in his voice._

_Alex whistles. “Impressive.”_

_They continued on for the rest of the night, not knowing the history that awaits the two of them. That this particular moment would be the start of a truly great love story. That in the next years to come, they’d share a home, meet each other’s families, and ask the most important question of all._

_It was only when one of the baristas approached their table did Alex and Henry realize the coffee shop was already closed and turns out they were the only customers left. It took Alex a ride on the subway, an emergency run for new highlighters at a convenience store, and a cold shower to realize he didn’t get anything done the whole time._

_And worse, he forgot to ask for Henry’s phone number._

***

**Alex [18:13]:** are you free to talk now?

 **Henry [18:14]:** Yes.

 **Alex [18:14]:** okay well

 **Alex [18:15]:** why’d you do it?

 **Henry [18:17]:** Straight to the point, are we?

 **Alex [18:19]:** if you want, i could throw in some pleasantries

 **Henry [18:20]:** No, that’s fine. And to answer your question, I put it up for sale because I don’t live there anymore.

 **Alex [18:22]:** oh

 **Alex [18:22]:** since when?

 **Henry [18:23]:** I moved out eight months ago.

 **Alex [18:23]:** back in london?

 **Henry [18:26]:** Yes.

 **Henry [18:47]:** Well, have a good day, then. Take care, Alex.

 **Alex [18:48]:** no wait

 **Alex [18:48]:** i still got something to ask

 **Henry [18:52]:** Go on.

 **Alex [18:52]:** how are you?

 **Henry [18:53]:** What?

 **Alex [18:54]:** that’s a pretty simple question

 **Henry [18:57]:** Fine.

 **Alex [18:59]:** really

 **Alex [18:59]:** i could literally sense the sarcasm all the way here

 **Alex [19:00]:** this is a genuine question, henry

 **Henry [19:02]:** Today’s not bad.

 **Alex [19:03]:** ah

 **Henry [19:03]:** How are you?

 **Alex [19:05]:** tired as fuck

 **Alex [19:05]:** stressed as hell

 **Alex [19:06]:** sleepy as a bear in hibernation

 **Henry [19:08]:** Let me guess. Three hours of sleep?

 **Alex [19:09]:** close

 **Alex [19:10]:** three hours and twenty minutes

 **Henry [19:12]:** You should take care of yourself more.

 **Alex [19:13]:** two years since we’ve last spoke and you turn into my mother??

 **Henry [19:13]:** I’m sorry. It wasn’t my place to say that.

 **Alex [19:015]:** nah i’m just joking

 **Alex [19:15]:** lighten up

 **Henry [19:17]:** That’s impossible. I’m already as pale as my grandmother’s arse.

 **Alex [19:21]:** good to know your humor is still intact

 **Alex [19:22]:** that made me laugh out loud by the way

 **Alex [19:22]:** and now my co-workers are looking at me like i’m a lunatic

 **Henry [19:23]:** Aren’t you?

 **Alex [19:23]:** oh wow

 **Henry [19:24]:** Joking.

 **Alex [19:25]:** touché

 **Alex [19:25]:** you retaliate fast

 **Henry [19:26]:** So, is there anything else you want to talk about?

 **Alex [19:27]:** blowing me off already?

 **Alex [19:28]:** that stings

 **Henry [19:30]:** You said you’re at work. I don’t want to distract you.

 **Alex [19:31]:** no trust me you’re not

 **Alex [19:31]:** and i was the one who texted you first right?

 **Henry [19:34]:** Okay, well. I just got to ask. Why do you want to talk all of a sudden?

 **Alex [19:36]:** nothing i just

 **Alex [19:36]:** well i saw the brownstone post

 **Alex [19:37]:** which made me realize i’ve literally haven’t heard from you since

 **Alex [19:37]:** you know

 **Alex [19:38]:** and i just thought that it’d be great to know how you’ve been doing

 **Henry [19:39]:** Well, aren’t you nice.

 **Alex [19:39]:** fuck off

 **Alex [19:40]:** i’m always nice

 **Henry [19:40]:** If you say so. Did you move back to Texas?

 **Alex [19:42]:** dc actually

 **Alex [19:42]:** for now

 **Alex [19:42]:** i plan on moving back to texas eventually

 **Alex [19:43]:** i’m still on with the congress before 30 thing

 **Alex [19:44]:** OH

 **Alex [19:44]:** congrats on your latest book by the way!

 **Henry [19:47]:** Well, I’ve no doubt you’d win in the election when you run. And thank you. It means a lot. I’m surprised you know about it, to be honest.

 **Alex [19:49]:** duh

 **Alex [19:49]:** henry fox, #1 new york times bestselling author???

 **Henry [19:50]:** Have you read it?

 **Alex [19:50]:** yup

 **Henry [19:51]:** Seriously?

 **Alex [19:54]:** ugh

 **Alex [19:54]:** if you don’t believe me, test me

 **Henry [19:55]:** Alright. To whom was it dedicated to?

 **Alex [19:56]:** your dad

 **Alex [19:56]:** see

 **Alex [19:57]:** fucking nailed it

 **Henry [19:58]:** That was too easy, though. You could’ve just peeped through the first few pages.

 **Alex [19:59]:** ask me another one

 **Henry [20:01]:** Main themes of the book?

 **Alex [20:02]:** death guilt and regrets

 **Alex [20:02]:** ha!

 **Henry [20:03]:** Fine, I believe you.

 **Alex [20:04]:** finally

 **Henry [20:06]:** What did you think of it?

 **Alex [20:07]:** aw you’re asking for my opinion?

 **Henry [20:09]:** I am.

 **Alex [20:12]:** okay well

 **Alex [20:12]:** it was really good

 **Alex [20:12]:** like

 **Alex [20:13]:** shivers-all-the-way and it’s got this

 **Alex [20:13]:** uh

 **Alex [20:13]:** how do you say this

 **Alex [20:14]:** this book just makes you reevaluate your life

 **Alex [20:14]:** and like

 **Alex [20:15]:** makes you question about your mortality a lot

 **Alex [20:15]:** like i said

 **Alex [20:15]:** it’s really good

 **Alex [20:16]:** but

 **Henry [20:16]:** There it is.

 **Alex [20:17]:** shut up this is not a bad thing

 **Alex [20:18]:** it’s so dark though

 **Alex [20:18]:** for someone who likes happy endings a lot

 **Henry [20:24]:** First of all, thank you for that impromptu review of my book. You nailed it despite the incoherence of your thoughts. Second thing, I said I like hopeful endings. There’s a difference between the two. And third, I guess it’s not really for everyone, which is okay. But thank you, really. For taking the time to read it. You didn’t have to.

 **Alex [20:26]:** i know i didn’t

 **Alex [20:26]:** but i wanted to

“Alright, I've had it,” Bea exclaims as she stands up from her spot on the couch and attempts to snatch Henry’s phone from his hands but was unsuccessful. Henry mentally thanks God for his reflexes. At least he still has those.

As he pushed his sister off him, Henry says, “What the hell are you doing?”

“I should be the one asking you that,” Bea huffs. “We’re four episodes into Bake Off and not once did you make a comment about how you wish you could taste the desserts.”

Henry tried his best to keep his face neutral. “Is it a crime to text now?”

“No,” Bea starts. “The crime in this particular scene is that you’re mentally absent the whole time I’ve been here. Also, you’ve been making a weird face at your phone. Which is also weird because you don’t look like a giddy teenager when you’re talking to Pez!”

“Pez?” Henry was confused now.

Bea shrugs. “Who else would you talk to?”

“I’m going to pretend your implication of me being a total friendless loser did not hurt and will now just stuff myself up with Jaffa cakes. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Henry says pointedly and heads towards the kitchen.

“You know you’re not allowed too many sweets, you stubborn idiot!” Bea calls out to him.

Henry ignores his sister and even displays the box of Jaffa cakes he brought with him to the couch. Bea glares at him but said nothing. She just pressed the play button, and once again, the baking competition is back on.

**Henry [20:37]:** Thank you, Alex.

 **Alex [20:42]:** no prob!

 **Alex [20:42]:** can i ask for a favor though?

 **Henry [20:45]:** I knew you were onto something.

 **Alex [20:46]:** just admit empire is the best

 **Henry [20:48]:** No way in hell.

 **Alex [20:49]:** damnit

“Okay, that’s it!” And before Henry could predict what her sister was going to do now, Bea has already snatched up his last supply of Jaffa cakes from the table.

Henry’s hands grabbed the box immediately and for three excruciating minutes, the Fox siblings were what seemed like in a pathetic game of tug-of-war. Only that their rope is less than a foot long, which makes it awkward and really, really stupid. Not to mention childish, but it’s not as if David has the right to judge them. Henry’s seen that dog lick poop.

He was ashamed to admit it, but Henry was getting tired. He sighs in defeat. Letting go of the box, he says, “Fine, fine. I’ll tell you who it is.”

Bea smirks. “I’m all ears.”

“Alex,” Henry mumbles.

“What?”

“It’s Alex. The person I’m texting,” Henry admits with a hint of embarrassment.

Bea merely stared at him. “Alex _Alex_? _Your_ Alex?” She asks incredulously.

“He’s not my Alex,” Henry rolls his eyes. “But yes. That Alex. Are we good now, Beatrice? Could I possibly have the one thing left in this world that brings me joy?”

“Probably not the _only_ thing, seeing as you were so joyful typing out pick-up lines to your past lover,” she singsongs in that way she knows Henry finds particularly annoying.

Henry groaned. “Please. For the love of God, stop watching those regency era dramas.”

“Once upon a time, you’ve been in love with those more than I am,” Bea says smugly.

“Well, that was before,” Henry replies, and if Bea sensed the hint of bitterness there, she remained quiet about it. What she insisted on, however, is knowing about the details of Henry’s “reconnection” with Alex.

“So, you’ve told him that you were selling the brownstone? Is that why you two started talking again?”

“No,” he says sheepishly. “We started talking _because_ he found out about it.”

This time it was Bea’s turn to groan. “Are you serious? You didn’t tell him?”

“Are you really siding with him about this?” Henry huffs. “And anyway, I explained everything, and he seems pretty okay with it now. It’s not like he’ll live there again anyway.”

Bea’s eyes softened at this. “Henry,” she starts gently.

“No,” Henry cuts her off. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“You’re giving me the pitying look again,” he says a little bit sharply. And then, “Sorry. I’m not angry at you.”

“It’s alright, Hen,” Bea reassures him. “I’m just worried about you, is all.”

Henry was silent for a moment. He wasn’t really sure what to say. “Well,” he tries. “It’s not like we’re getting back together. We’re just friends. Hell, just acquaintances, really. No need to worry, Bea.”

Bea frowns. “Just be careful, alright?”

“I will,” Henry promises her. “Oh, and Bea?”

“Yeah?”

“Give me back my Jaffa cakes.”

With a laugh, Bea hands the box back to her brother, but not without pinching his cheek. She yawned and stretched before announcing, “I should get going.”

Henry nods and helps her pack up her stuff. He thanks her for looking out for David for the past week and walked her to his door. He was just about to head back inside when Bea calls out to him from the doorway, “Henry.”

He looks back.

“Don’t forget,” she says.

Eyebrows furrowed in confusion, Henry asks “Forget what?”

Bea gives him a knowing look. “That you two also started out as acquaintances once.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long-ish wait. i hope it was worth it! <3


	3. Chapter 3

_Alex has been having a shitty day. Or rather, a shitty week._

_Aside from the fact that he has cases after cases for work all piled up, he and Henry have been tensed with each other the past couple of days. The worse thing is he can’t even pinpoint the root cause to a specific instance because every little thing just keeps on adding up unto itself. Henry being rude to a waiter during one of the rare meals they’ve managed to share together this week. Henry picking up the wrong items Alex asked him to get from the grocery all because he didn’t want to admit he didn’t hear them clearly the first time. Henry who almost crashed their car due to losing control over the steering wheel (twitching fingers, my ass). Henry who chose not to attend the gala night where Alex and the law firm he works at received a fucking national award because he was too tired and fatigued and whatever else excuses he told Alex._

_He’d give the man some credit for all the apologizing he did, and yes, Alex told him that it was all water under the bridge and shit, but it still stings. It fucking sucks that his boyfriend feels so out of reach and he doesn’t have a damn clue why. And though Alex tried hard to fight it off, this vile thought still insists on festering his mind slowly, day by day: that he and Henry are not a good match after all these years—that he’s slowly uncovering the man Henry truly was and he wasn’t sure he liked this version of him._

_Alex wanted the charming and funny and kind man he met at the coffee shop back, not the man who’s quick to anger and too prideful and become good at evading the truth._

_Sure, they do still have their good days, but today, in Alex’s heavy opinion, is a bad one. One of the worsts, really._

_He was pacing in his office, hands messing up his curls because he’s got to have something to release all his stress to. All panicked breathing. His assistant just poked her head into the room for the nth time in the last twenty minutes, nervously looking around for any sign of that goddamned binder._

_“Uhm Alex? We should really head off—” she started._

_“No,” Alex cut her off firmly. “There’s still time. We need those papers. We can’t go in that hearing room without them.”_

_Sophie, the assistant, bit her lip. “Okay. I’ll wait for him downstairs.” With that, she left the room._

_Alex let out a loud groan before dialing the number only to hear yet again, “Terribly sorry, but I’m rather busy at the moment. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I’m able. Have a good day.”_

_Right after the beep, Alex did indeed leave a message. It was probably his twenty fifth one by now. “Henry. Hi. I’m not sure if you’ve received any of the messages I sent you, but God I hope you did because I need a favor, baby. The hearing for the Jameson case is today, and I left my binder in my office at home where our main statements are collated. Could you please drop them off? Please. I really need to win this case, Henry. Please. Please. Please.”_

_He has four minutes and thirty-nine seconds left. Fuck._

_The door suddenly opened, revealing a dismayed Sophie, confirming all of Alex’s worst fears at the moment. She only gave him a slight shook of her head. Having left no choice, Alex faced his client and hoped what he had at hand was enough_

_Henry jolted awake at the loud slamming of the brownstone’s main door. Without checking for neither the wall clock nor his phone, he climbed out of bed and waited for the wave of nausea to pass before greeting his boyfriend downstairs._

_“Hi, love. How was—” Henry was saying before he was interrupted._

_Alex scoffed. “So now you’re talking to me?”_

_“What do you mean?” Henry asked, genuinely having no idea what this is all about. “Did something happen?”_

_“God, I can’t believe you,” Alex laughed humorlessly. But then, his facial expression sobered up into a cold gaze. “Check your phone once in a while, then you’ll know.”_

_“Alex, wait—”_

_“What the hell were you even doing the whole day? You told me you had the day off because your editor is still making her way through the first round of edits,” Alex spat. “I never asked you to be involved in my line of work, but this—all you had to do was take the fucking binder—”_

_Henry, who now seemed to realize why Alex’s anger was directed at him, felt a sudden wave of misery. “Alex, I’m truly sorry. I did saw your first message and I was already about to head off to give it to you, only I’ve contracted a terrible migraine and—”_

_“Save it.”_

_“Hear me out. Please.”_

_A single nod._

_“I knew I couldn’t make it outside, and I told you that right away. I sent you a text message,” Henry says worriedly. “Did you not receive it?”_

_“What message, Henry?” Alex asks angrily._

_Henry pulled out his phone from his pocket to show Alex the text, only to pull up the app and see that it was unsent. He felt his face crumple. Alex simply said, “I lost the case, by the way. I hope that nap was worth it.” And then he headed upstairs, and Henry heard the bedroom door shut and locked._

***

Henry woke up with a terrible headache.

For the past few weeks, he’s been getting them a bit too frequently for his liking, but he found that they’re nothing that a good sleep couldn’t fix. This time, it was different. This time, the pain he’s feeling is similar to what he felt back then. He knew he should tell someone about it, and a check-up at the hospital would be the best thing to do, but… he was scared. It was one thing to speculate, and another thing to have it confirmed by medical professionals.

 _Henry, you coward,_ he thought bitterly. Probably not the best way to greet yourself in the morning, but it’s not as if there’s someone who would give him breakfast in bed or hug him from behind while he’s making tea in the kitchen.

A _ping_ noise from his phone interrupted his thoughts. He wasn’t surprise it was a text from Alex.

**Alex [7:06]:** so brian from work asked me to introduce him to my assistant last week, right?

 **Alex [7:07]:** and i, being the best wingman, did what he asked and more

 **Alex [7:09]:** guess what

 **Alex [7:09]:** they seriously hit it off

 **Alex [7:10]:** thanks to me and my skills

 **Alex [7:14]:** do you think i could add that to my cv

 **Alex [7:15]:** oh shit sorry for flooding

 **Alex [7:16]:** by the way, good morning baby

 **Alex [7:16]:** pls show the last one to david

Those, at least, managed to put a smile on Henry’s face. Ever since that brownstone post last month, he and Alex have been talking every single day without fail. They’ve managed to get past the cold awkwardness of being ex-lovers and arrived at the comforting warmth of being genuine friends. Deep inside, Henry always wishes it was something more, but what he wants doesn’t matter.

**Henry [7:18]:** Your talents are wasted in law. You should’ve been a developer of a dating app instead. Also, I’m not sure how I feel about reading “possesses exceptional wingman abilities” on a lawyer’s curriculum vitae, but—am I saying this right?—whatever floats your boat.

 **Henry [7:21]:** I did what you asked and now thanks to you, my phone screen is covered in David’s saliva.

 **Alex [7:23]:** aww miss ya buddy

 **Henry [7:24]:** He misses you too.

Henry contemplated on whether he should add that misses Alex too—friends can miss each other, after all—but decided against it. What they have at the moment is still too fragile, and so Henry hopes David would be enough. For now.

It has become a routine for him, this whole texting thing. Somehow, he’s managed to incorporate it with his other daily mundane tasks despite his initial reluctance to let Alex into his life once again, and now, everything he does ends with “while texting with Alex.” He drinks his Earl Grey tea in the morning while texting with Alex. He cleans his flat while texting with Alex. He tries out new tv series to watch while texting with Alex. Given what happened _before_ , it was to be expected that Bea and Pez—the two closest people to Henry has—would share some of their concern for him, and Henry can’t blame them. He did reassure both, however, that he’s being careful, that he’s made sure to set some boundaries, and that he’s completely certain it won’t lead to anything serious.

**Alex [7:26]:** what are u up to today?

 **Henry [7:27]:** I have to meet with Claire this morning for some feedback—the usual stuff. And after that I might drop by at the shelter. I promised the kids I’d come and visit at least once a week.

 **Alex [7:29]:** ughh lucky. sounds like a pretty chill day.

 **Henry [7:32]:** How many clients today?

 **Alex [7:33]:** dude i honestly have no idea. four i think??

 **Alex [7:33]:** sophie says it’s five!!

 **Alex [7:34]:** she’s a literal lifesaver

 **Henry [7:36]:** How she could put up with you all these years, I don’t even know. She deserves a raise.

 **Alex [7:37]:** bitch

 **Alex [7:38]:** you also were able to look after my sorry ass for six years, might i remind you

 **Henry [7:41]:** Yes. And look how that turned out.

 **Alex [7:43]:** OH COME ON

Smiling, Henry left his phone to charge and went to take a bath. When he was sure he already has everything he needs, he waved goodbye to David and carried on with his day.

Meeting with his editor, Claire, may have soured his good mood a bit. Henry understands where her comments were coming from, but he finds her suggestion would make the sequel _too_ forced. After all, what made it gained such a huge audience was its theme, and if the majority describes it as “thought-provoking” and “haunting” and “exuding such passionate anger and sorrow towards the brevity of life” then Henry’s fine with that. In fact, he takes pride in it—to be able to have other people question the things he did ever since he found out about his condition.

Henry parted ways with Claire, promised to meet with her again for the second edits (Henry insists that it just be a video call next time—he hasn’t got much energy to spare for going out these days), but didn’t say anything about changing the theme of it.

**Henry [13:34]:** “Maybe take some of your poems on the more joyful side.”

 **Alex [13:37]:** seriously???

 **Alex [13:37]:** it’s your work for fucks sake

 **Alex [13:38]:** you want me to send you angry memes to pass onto her or…

 **Henry [13:39]:** Or. Don’t worry about it. I won’t change the book, but I will try to add some of those happy undertones she kept on insisting about. “To give your readers hope,” as she said.

 **Alex [13:40]:** suggestion: you could tell her to shove her hope right up her ass

 **Henry [13:42]:** Ha, no. That would just end up with be having no way to earn a living. Plus, I might need some of your courage to tell her that.

 **Alex [13:44]:** you’re not a coward, h

***

Henry enjoys visiting the youth shelters he shares with Pez, truly. It’s just today might have been a mistake. But as soon as the children saw him approaching and they’ve all got this happy look in their eyes and it’s just… Henry never felt like he was needed by other people, so having this type of reaction just because of his presence alone was enough for him to suffer through his headache for the next couple of hours.

“Hello,” Henry greets Gabriel as he sits down next to him. It has become some sort of tradition between the two of them: whenever Henry visits, he and Gabriel would go to their favorite spot in the lounge area and simply talk. He wouldn’t say he was an adept conversationalist, but here he is, having been able to coax a joke or two out of the shyest kid in the room (according to Pez).

“Hey,” Gabriel says brightly. He was long past being scared of talking to Henry now. And if he was being honest, he actually sees him now as an older brother figure. Not that he would tell him that—he might die of embarrassment. “How have you been?”

“I’m doing well,” Henry smiles. “I see you’re almost out of bald spots!”

Gabriel grinned. “I know! I’ve been really careful whenever I wash my hair. Gotta make sure I don’t lose even a _single_ strand,” he says cheekily.

“Well, no wonder Joe told me you take the longest in the shower,” Henry says with a laugh. “But, really, you look great, Gab. I’m so happy for you.”

“Thanks, Henry,” the kid says.

Just when Henry was about to ask if he was up for a movie, Joe—the head of the staff—came into the room. “Oh, I was all over the place looking for you, sir,” he addresses Henry.

“Henry is fine,” Henry says, and then he asks, “Is there a problem?”

“No, not at all si—Henry. The kids were just asking for you. Apparently, they’ve got a new board game and they wanted you to join them. Gabriel, you could come as well. If you’d like.”

Gabriel shook his head. “I’d rather stay here. Thanks anyway, Joe.”

“You’re sure?” Henry asks him.

The kid nods.

“Alright,” Henry sighs. “I’ll see you later, Gab.” He stood up from his seat and was only able to manage three steps before his vision darkened and he felt his body swayed on his feet. Immediately, there was a rush of footsteps and two pairs of hands were on him, steadying him and preventing his head from hitting the ground.

Joe and Gabriel gently guided him back to his seat and the next thing he knew, there was a light breeze directed towards him. It helped him breathe. “Sir, are you alright?” Joe asked, panicked. “Do you need me to go and call for Sir Pez?”

“Henry, are you sick?” Gabriel asked him in a worried tone.

Henry assured them both that he’s fine. It’s really just a stupid migraine that wouldn’t go away. “I’m alright. No need to call for Pez, as he’s busy today. Though I think it’s probably best if I just head home for now,” he says apologetically. “Please don’t, er, mention this to anyone else? I promise it’s nothing serious.”

Joe simply sighed and walked him to the main door, while Gabriel gave him an “I don’t believe you” look and made him promise not to come back until he was a hundred percent healthy again.

Henry didn’t tell the kid that if he were to do that, then he might not be able to come back to the shelter for good.

***

The weeks went by and Henry never told anyone about the incident. He figured there was no need since it never happened again anyway. What he couldn’t hide from his sister and best friend, however, was this aura of fatigue that seems to hang over him without any intention of leaving. Henry knew he would soon run out of excuses to come up with, and so, he decided to finally go to the hospital for a check-up. The catch here is that rather than having the results sent back to him, he requested for them to be sent over to his previous doctor back in New York. Henry preferred the news to be coming from her, whatever would that entail for him.

Currently, he was hanging out with David and playing some Elton John in the background as he works on his book. And of course, conversing with Alex from time to time.

**Henry [16:12]:** What do you suppose is a good word that rhymes with heart?

 **Alex [16:12]:** fart

 **Henry [16:15]:** Hilarious.

 **Alex [16:16]:** i know, i know

 **Alex [16:16]:** i’m a genius

 **Henry [16:19]:** Can you imagine the look on Claire’s face if I actually went with that?

 **Alex [16:20]:** nope and that, sweetheart, is why you should absolutely rhyme heart with fart in a highly rated queer poetry book

 **Henry [16:24]:** I’ll keep that in mind, but I’m not promising anything.

 **Alex [16:35]:** check this out

 **Alex [16:35]:** roses are red

 **Alex [16:35]:** violets are blue

 **Alex [16:36]:** i’m bi and i like head

 **Alex [16:36]:** and so do you

 **Henry [16:38]:** Christ, I absolutely hate you right now.

 **Alex [16:41]:** aw that’s so cute

 **Alex [16:42]:** you still think you don’t sound like a puppy whenever you say that to me

 **Henry [16:44]:** Because I don’t?

 **Alex [16:47]:** yeah sure

 **Henry [16:58]:** If you could have anything in the world right now, what would you wish for?

 **Alex [17:00]:** anything?

 **Henry [17:02]:** Yes. Don’t think too much about it. The key is just blurting out whatever’s at the top off your head.

 **Alex [17:05]:** oh okay

 **Alex [17:05]:** that’s pretty easy

 **Alex [17:06]:** the coffee you used to make for me all the time

 **Henry [17:09]:** Really? Why?

 **Alex [17:12]:** what do you mean why??

 **Alex [17:13]:** that shit is good stuff man

 **Alex [17:13]:** don’t know how you do it

 **Alex [17:14]:** but after all these years i still can’t make the exact same one

 **Henry [17:15]:** Really? I just add cinnamon.

 **Alex [17:19]:** believe me i’ve tried a hundred variations of adding cinnamon to the coffee

 **Alex [17:19]:** it just wouldn’t taste the same

 **Alex [17:20]:** if only you told me before

 **Henry [17:22]:** Ah, I see what you’re doing here.

 **Alex [17:25]:** i don’t know what you’re talking about, sweetheart

 **Henry [17:28]:** Did you just started talking to me just so you could sweet talk your way into getting the recipe?

 **Alex [17:30]:** oh no

 **Alex [17:30]:** you’ve seen right through me babe

 **Alex [20:48]:** seriously, h. please tell me

 **Henry [20:54]:** Good night, Alex.

***

Alex was so ready to go home. It was already six in the evening and all he wanted was a nice, relaxing bath and some homemade dinner and his nice couch and his Netflix subscription. But no, those would have to wait because of Paul.

He just finished his case for today—they’d won—and was now sorting through the files that have been piling up in his desk because if there’s one thing that’s worse than having to arrive at work at eight a.m. sharp, it’s having to arrive at eight a.m. sharp to a messy desk. It took him thirty minutes to sort everything out and label each one neatly, but it was so worth it. Future Alex was going to thank him for this.

Just when he was about to head out, Sophie poked her head inside Alex’s office and looked apologetically at him. “Alex,” she calls out.

By the look on her face, he instantly knew his going home was going to wait a little longer. He barely managed to suppress a groan. “What is it?”

“Paul’s asking for you,” Sophie replies.

Alex furrowed his brows. “Did he say why?”

She shook her head. “No, just said that he needs to talk to you before you leave. It’s important.”

“Alright,” Alex shrugs.

Upon reaching his boss’s office door, he knocked thrice and called out, “It’s me.”

There was a slight shuffle of papers and other things before Alex got the affirmative to enter. Paul is a cool guy, and technically, he and Alex weren’t really far off in terms of their positions given that they both work as civil rights lawyers for the same law firm. It’s just that when the promotions were being assigned, Paul was able to one-up Alex because he’s been working here for far longer, which, Alex thinks, is pretty fair.

“Sooo,” Alex drawls out. “What do you need me for?”

“Oh hey, Alex,” Paul smiles. “I really appreciate you coming here, man. I know it’s a bit late already, so I’m just going to give you the main details and if you still need to clarify some things, how about we do it over a cup of coffee tomorrow?”

Alex agreed. “What’s up?”

Paul clasped his hands together. “Alright, so. There’s an international legal conference that’s going to be held soon, and I think that would be a really great opportunity for us to expand across more states in the country and perhaps even to other countries in the near future.”

“That’s great,” Alex says. “Do you need me to take over here for a while?”

“No,” Paul replies. “I need you to be the one to represent Allen & McKenzie.”

Well, Alex did not see that coming. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, I mean there are two more others accompanying you, but I wanted to tell you personally.”

“Oh. Wow. That’s—thank you, Paul,” Alex says. “I really appreciate this opportunity.”

Paul nods. “The company would be the one to provide the air fare and hotel accommodations. Technically, the conference would only last for three days, but you would be out for five to account for the travel time.”

“Where would it be held?” He assumed it was only somewhere within the country, but oh was he wrong.

“London,” Paul replies with a knowing look. “Would that be a problem for you, Alex?”

“No,” Alex reassures him. “It’s totally fine.” And then he suddenly had this crazy, stupid idea that may or may not even turn out for the best and he was sure would bite him in the ass, but before he could stop himself, he already managed to blurt out to his boss, “Is there any way I could extend my leave for one more week?”

***

As soon as he got home, Alex immediately put down his bag and take out his phone from his jean pocket to send an important text message.

**Alex [18:26]:** guess what!!

 **Henry [18:28]:** What?

 **Alex [18:31]:** i’ll be in london for some work thing next month

 **Alex [18:31]:** i have a week off for vacation

 **Alex [18:32]:** i was thinking that maybe we could meet up?

 **Alex [18:32]:** if that’s alright with you

 **Alex [18:32]:** it’ll be really good to see you again, h

Nora told him he was coming off as the clingy ex, but Alex would beg to differ. Sure, he’s more expressive between him and Henry, but that doesn’t mean Henry is a cold person. He knows Henry misses him too—in the way he’d randomly send Alex pictures of David, in the way he’d tell him all about the kids at the shelter and how much one of them reminded him of Alex so damn much, in the way he’d initiate a Netflix Party with only the two of them last fourth of May.

Alex wasn’t stupid. He knows this is a dangerous line he was toeing between, but when it comes to Henry, he always couldn’t help it. But their potential meeting didn’t have to mean anything more than two friends seeing each other after two years. _Only that you two were the kind of friends that used to be lovers_ , supplied his mind.

Henry still hasn’t replied, and Alex being Alex, put his phone away from him for the time being because he knows he won’t get anything done if he stares at it until a new message came in. Thankfully, just as he was cleaning up the remnants of his dinner, his phone finally lit up with, signaling a notification from Henry.

**Henry [19:53]:** Alex, I’m sorry, but I don’t think this is a good idea.

 **Alex [19:56]:** why not?

 **Henry [19:57]:** I’m just not ready.

 **Alex [20:01]:** you think it’s too soon?

 **Henry [20:03]:** No. I just… can’t.

 **Alex [20:04]:** did i do something wrong?

 **Henry [20:06]:** You did absolutely nothing wrong. Believe me, I would love to see you again, but it’s simply not the right time for me.

 **Alex [20:09]:** then when is it okay for you?

 **Alex [20:09]:** next next month? next year?

 **Alex [20:10]:** come on, henry. give me something concrete here

 **Henry [20:12]:** I don’t know, Alex.

Alex sighed in frustration. He doesn’t understand Henry. One minute he was sharing snippets of his upcoming poetry book with him, and the next, it seems like he doesn’t take their friendship seriously. They’ve agreed before that they were not to broach any topic relating to their past, but why does it feel like Henry’s still stuck there even after all this time?

He doubts Henry would answer the call, Nora would just tell him to just enjoy London by himself, and he was sure June would advise him not to force Henry into something he isn’t comfortable with. So, Alex did something he would probably be ashamed of in the morning.

“Uh, Bea? Hi. It’s Alex.”

***

After a month of pestering, Henry finally agreed to his sister’s insistence that he try seeing a therapist. “You know I’m always here for you, H, but even _I_ don’t know how to help you face all the thoughts that I know have been gnawing at your heart ever since New York,” his sister told her.

Now, Henry just got back from his second session with Patsy, and he was actually feeling good. In fact, he was proud of himself for even making it this far. _Little achievements need to be celebrated too_ , she told him back when he had his first meeting with her.

Today, he decided, was going to be spent catching up on newly released books that he still haven’t read yet because his reading slump was such a bitch. And yet while doing so, he found his hand reaching for his phone to check if there was a message from Alex. It shouldn’t surprise him that there was nothing new—not since the other day—because ever since Alex suggested last month that they meet up here in London, things have been tensed between them. Now, their messages take hours to be responded to and full conversations were much rarer the past few weeks.

Thankfully, David came into his room and started biting and pulling at his sweatpants (it was time for his daily afternoon walk), which allowed Henry to clear his thoughts even just for a little while. He just finished securing David’s leash when the doorbell to his flat rang.

Once. Twice. Thrice. After that, it became kind of insistent.

“Coming!” Henry yells in the direction of the entrance door. He brisk walked towards it, pulled it open to reveal—

Alex.

 _Jesus fuck._ He was sure everything was tilting right now. This just _can’t_ be happening. _No_.

Henry was sure he looked like a gaping fish at the moment, but really, no one could blame him. Alex didn’t look much better either, but for an entirely different reason.

God, he was just as beautiful as Henry remembered him to be, if not for the red-rimmed eyes and the miserable expression etched onto his face. For someone who has a way with words, Henry didn’t know what to say, but it turns out Alex does. And apparently, that one question comprising of two words was enough to make Henry’s life come crashing down—even as a tearful whisper.

“Brain tumor?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> will check for typos/errors tom when i'm not running on three hours of sleep hahaaha thank you for reading i hope u liked it <33


	4. Chapter 4

Everything was a blur for Henry after that. As he momentarily went into shock, got over it to save himself from further embarrassment, invited Alex inside, offered him coffee and biscuits, Henry couldn’t believe this was all happening. Surely, he must be stuck in some dream again, only this time it wasn’t a memory of some sort, but a nightmare. Because the last thing he wanted was for Alex to see him in such a state: gaunt-looking face, blonde hair that hasn’t quite fully grown back yet, dark bags under his eyes. Even a complete stranger would’ve known Henry’s been going through a lot, which is exactly what he desperately hid from Alex all this time.

They were currently sitting side-by-side on the leather sofa in Henry’s living room, as if both were afraid that it might all be too much if they looked into each other’s eyes. As Alex said before, it’s been two years after all. For quite a while, they stayed just like that in silence, with the occasional sip of their coffees. It would’ve been awkward if not for the fact that they were both observing the other’s reflection through the blank television screen a few feet away from the sofa.

Henry was relieved for a second, thinking that he might not be facing his fears anytime soon, but then Alex cleared his throat and turned sideways, so that he was facing Henry. “So,” he starts. “Is it true?”

Seeing as there was no point in hiding it any longer, Henry says, “Yes.” Alex’s face crumpled at that one-word answer, which took Henry by surprise. This wasn’t the reaction he expected. “Are you… are you alright?”

This time, it was Alex’s turn to be caught unexpectedly. “You’re seriously asking me if _I’m_ okay?” he says, bordering on hysterical. “What is wrong with you?”

“Look,” Henry replies tersely. “I don’t know what it is you want from me and what the point of your visit is, seeing as I’ve explicitly told you I don’t want to meet up. So, if you’ve got nothing else to say, then I think it’s best if you just leave, Alex.”

“No,” Alex says, crossing his arms and staring Henry down. “I’m not leaving. Not until you’ve told me everything.”

Now it was Henry’s turn to let out a humorless laugh. “What makes you think you deserve to know? You’re not entitled to anything that’s got to do with me. You made that perfectly clear back then.”

“We were _engaged_ , Henry. I was your fucking fiancé! What was your plan, wait until you were being rushed into surgery before telling me? _That’s_ how you wanted me to find out?”

“I didn’t know,” Henry interrupts him quietly.

Alex stares at him. “What?”

Henry took a deep breath and then a very exhausted sigh. “When we were still together, I didn’t know I was already sick at that time.”

“You were already—but that’s—I would’ve _known_ —” And then all at once, Alex was reminded of all the times it was right in front of him, but dismissed it completely, sure with himself that it was Henry just being an asshole for no goddamned reason. His constant tiredness and sleepiness and forgetfulness, sudden mood changes, bouts of irritability, the frequent migraines. _God._ It was all _right there_. He should’ve known that there’s always a reason when it comes to Henry, and most of the time he’d need to pry it from his (figuratively) cold, dead hands, but it doesn’t mean he should simply _give up_ on him. “Jesus Christ,” he finally whispers. “All that time?”

“It’s not your fault, Alex. You couldn’t have known,” Henry automatically says because of course, even in the middle of a conversation about _his_ sickness and decaying health, the only thing Henry cares about all this is how Alex was feeling. As if _he_ wasn’t the one who left Henry the time he needed him most. Alex knows there are still a lot more to unpack, but this mere knowledge was already enough for the tears he’s been keeping at bay to finally, finally fall.

He wipes some of it away. “When did you find out?” Alex asks wetly.

“A couple of weeks after you moved out of the brownstone,” Henry answers him. “I was helping Pez at the shelter one day when I suddenly had a seizure. I don’t quite remember what happened, but Pez filled me in when they got me stable. Apparently, they rushed me to the hospital and while I was in and out of it, Pez called Bea and told her what happened because I kept on mumbling, ‘Not Alex. Please don’t involve him into this.’” He paused to give Alex a wry smile. “When I woke up, Bea was there, sitting beside my bed and clutching my hand. She flew in from London, which I would’ve teased her for because she wasn’t the dramatic type. But then the doctor came in with the results, and well… you could’ve guessed what happened after that.”

Alex took a shuddering breath. “You were diagnosed with a brain tumor.”

Henry nods. “It was classified as a Grade II brain tumor, but it was benign, so it could be fully removed through surgery. It was the best option, according to the doctor.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Alex whispers wetly.

“Because,” Henry says defeatedly, “If I did, and by some miracle, you decided that you wanted to come back to me, I’d merely think you’d done it out of pity.”

Henry wanted to smooth out the pain and anger that contorted Alex’s face, but he’s right. Alex deserves an explanation from him—an apology of some sort. And if honesty was what he’s seeking from Henry, then he’d gladly give it to him, without coating anything. What does it matter if Alex goes back to hating him after all this? It’s not new information to Henry anyway.

“Is that really how you think of me?” Alex replies, voice raising.

“You know I don’t, Alex,” Henry says heatedly. “But what did you expect me to think then? You were gone, and I was dying, and my own mother couldn’t bear the sight of me because I remind her too much of Dad, and my grandmother thinks I’m even more of a waste of our family’s inheritance, and all my brother could say was if only I’d chosen military science instead of becoming a fucking writer—like that’s got anything to do with the conversation we’ve had.” He pauses for a while to gasp for air and bury his face in his hands.

“Henry,” Alex says quietly. “I’m sor—”

“Don’t,” Henry cuts him off sharply and although there was a waver in his voice, he still continued what he was saying. “All I could think about was how it was better that way. That you didn’t know. That you simply continue thinking of me as someone you used to love. That you live your life without feeling any sort of pity for me because _I can’t_ , Alex. I _can’t_ —” Henry breaks off, sobbing.

And in that moment, it didn’t matter whether they were lovers in the past with an uncertain future ahead of them, because all Alex cared about was closing the gap between him and Henry, finally doing what he’s been wanting to for the past two years. Something he could’ve done so many times now, if only he did things differently before. He wrapped his arms around Henry and guided his head onto his own shoulder. _I should’ve been there for him_ , Alex thinks. “Don’t say that,” he says tearfully to Henry. “Don’t say that you’re—that you’re dying,” he chokes out the last part.

“Don’t worry about me,” Henry cries into his shoulder, completely disproving his own statement. And then he surprises Alex by saying, “The other reason why I decided not to tell you was because—”

“It’s okay, H,” Alex reassures him. “You don’t have to tell me. It’s alright.”

But Henry shakes his head from where it was heavily leaning on Alex’s shoulder. He pulled away in order to face Alex, and even though he was trembling, and it was no doubt taking a lot for him to even consider saying it out loud, he still thinks that Henry was the strongest person he’s ever known. With a shuddering breath, Henry says, “You hated me, and you wanted me gone from your life—and I don’t blame you for that, or anything. Hell, I could live with that.” He sniffs. “But what would you even say if you knew then? That I deserved it for being an asshole? For talking to your dad like some obnoxious prick? For nearly killing us both when I lost control of the car? For forgetting our anniversary? It’s one thing to have your reaction made up in my head, but it’s rather another thing to have you say it to my face. And… and I don’t think I could take it,” he breathes out.

“Henry, I’d never—that’s not what I—” Alex—for all his ability to defend people in front of a court and his notoriousness among his friends and family for never knowing when to shut up and his confidence in himself that shows in the way he communicates with others—finds himself to be at a loss for words. It’s nothing new; Henry’s always been the one to have a way with words between the two of them, but Alex just wishes that for once, he’s the one who could ease the situation by saying the right things to Henry.

“So, there,” Henry says as he puts a little more space between them in the sofa. “Deal with those pieces of information however you may please, but you don’t get to call me a coward for the decisions I’ve made.” And then he sticks his chin out, which has always been one of the things he loves most about Henry, and Alex almost forgets that they’re not a _we_ anymore, and so he couldn’t just grab Henry and pepper his face with kisses without putting this fragile thing that they’ve managed to rebuild over the past few months on the line. And well… he left him, didn’t he?

Alex has never believed in regrets but letting his mind soak in Henry’s side of the story and putting it side-by-side with his, he’s starting to realize that maybe, he did have one after all.

***

By the time Alex left, Henry felt completely drained. Aside from the fact that Alex’s mere arrival at his doorstep has taken him by surprise, he also didn’t get to prepare himself mentally for the conversation they just had. He won’t deny that it felt good to have let it all out of his system, but he knew that even if Alex did forgive him for everything, this is all what they could be this time: friends.

After much prodding, Henry managed to get Alex to confess about how he knew about the brain tumor in the first place. It turns out he’s got to have a conversation with his dear sister very soon after all. Henry also found out that Alex went straight to his flat upon arrival—hence the luggage he had with him—and was due for an attendance at a conference for a few days. He told Henry that he purposely extended his travel just so they could see each other. “Which you turned down, by the way,” Alex reminded him dryly. “But don’t worry, you can make it up to me.”

Henry doesn’t like where this was going. “How?”

“Be my tour guide,” Alex said.

“Yes, because I’m just the best candidate for showing people how to have a good time in London right now,” Henry deadpanned.

Alex waved him off. “Not right now, obviously. I meant next week.”

Henry was grateful Alex wasn’t mentioning anything regarding their previous visit to London a couple of years back. That would’ve been a great thing to point out to invalidate Alex’s need of a tour guide since he’s technically explored the city before, but Henry would rather eat David’s wet dog food first before being the one to bring that up. It was their second-year anniversary, and Henry decided that it was probably time that Alex met his family. That didn’t go well, of course, but they’d certainly had fun riling Philip up and taking years off his grandmother’s life with their PDA.

“I don’t know, Alex,” Henry said uncertainly. “I’m sure you’d find a better company. Your coworkers, perhaps?” Alex let out a loud, exaggerated groaned at that. Henry hid his smile with a cough, and after a few moments of staring into Alex’s pleading eyes, he finally gave in. “Alright, fine. But if you’re starting to get bored, or if someone invited you to join them and you genuinely want to, you’ll tell me. Deal?”

“Deal.”

***

A week has passed ever since that conversation, and Henry would’ve been lying if he said he didn’t prepare for this one bit. Because of course, he did. In a very Alex fashion, he sort of made a list of the places they could go to. When he told Alex all about it when he arrived at Henry’s flat first thing in the morning, Alex has got this fondness in his eyes and was giving Henry the _look_ , in which the latter found himself looking away from.

Henry keeps on reminding himself that they weren’t doing this to see if they could try being _them_ again for a second time; they were here because Alex wants some fun and entertainment.

“Where to?” Alex asks him as they stepped out into the bright morning sunshine and the waking streets of London.

“To the stars.”

Alex whips his head to look at Henry and found him _smiling._ It wasn’t hard to manage one as well. “You finally watched it?”

“Just once,” Henry laughs, clearly amused at this whole situation. “I got bored one day and I ran out of The Great British Bake Off episodes to watch, so…”

It had been a thing for them before to force the other to watch something classic, and Henry being Henry, made Alex see all the film adaptations of Jane Austen’s novels. Alex, on the other hand, made it his mission to get Henry to see something more “their time;” hence, Titanic and a bunch of other stuff.

They made it to St. Paul’s Station in just a few minutes of walking, and Alex realized they made it just in time to catch the opening of the cathedral. He made sure to savor every moment of it—the Duke of Wellington monument, the key chapels, the Stone and the Golden galleries, the sudden change in the atmosphere. Alex felt it too the instant they walked inside. One moment he was surrounded by local shops setting up for the day and the sounds of light chatter here and there, the next he found himself in one of the most historic churches in the world with the man he was supposed to marry. Somewhere in the back of Alex’s mind, he remembers how Henry once joked about getting married here, and he was grateful when Henry told him it was time to go, dragging him out of his stupor, because he might’ve burst into tears in front of the altar.

Henry took him to the Tower of London next, where he dutifully acquainted Alex with the history of the location and even inserting tidbits of trivia like the smartass he is. “Did you know that back in 2012 an anonymous person managed to steal the key to the internal tower? That means somewhere out in the world, someone has a spare key to this place.”

Alex whistled. “God save the Queen, then.” He got an eye roll from Henry at that.

They headed off to the Tower Bridge next and when Henry joked that Alex should just take a picture to last longer—he was caught staring, damn it—he savored the look of surprise on Henry’s face when he took out the film camera he brought with him and did what he was told.

“I hope it comes out blurry,” Henry grumbles.

Alex laughs. “Here take one with me.”

After a few hours more of walking and sightseeing, Henry suggested they have lunch and Alex let him decide where to eat. They ended up trying out different sorts of food at the Borough Market, Henry leading the way the entire time.

“Admit it,” Henry smirks at him as Alex walks towards him after getting another one of those cheese and olive sticks.

Alex raised an eyebrow at him. “What are you talking about?”

“British cuisine is the most boring type of cuisine ever,” Henry mocks Alex’s statement from years ago with his shitty American accent.

Alex threw an olive at his face. “I hate you,” he says, not meaning it at all.

When they felt so full they couldn’t possibly take another bite of food, Alex suggested they just go somewhere where they could relax and walk leisurely for a bit, and unsurprisingly, Henry took him to Hyde Park. Alex has always been uncomfortable with silence, so he’s taught himself to always break those moments with something funny or obnoxious or unbelievable to say, but with Henry, it was different. It wasn’t cold or uneasy; rather, it’s warm and calming and the right amount of peaceful.

They walked side-by-side with the occasional fun facts from Henry that Alex was now enjoying too much. Apparently, it only takes about twenty or so minutes for one to completely walk across Hyde Park, but Alex observed they did it twice as long since he asked Henry for a couple of breaks where they just sit on the grass. He knew Henry was getting tired just by the way he was panting a bit and grimacing at times, and Alex was even more certain that Henry would never suggest for them to take a short rest, so he initiated those himself, masking it as “wanting to take in the scenery for a little longer.”

Before exiting the park and heading back to the station, Henry asked Alex if he still would like to see the Kensington Gardens. It was one of the places they were supposed to go to when they explored London the years ago but ran out of time because Pez kept on dragging them back to Soho. Alex agreed, and maybe once, before he ever knew Henry, he might’ve laughed at the idea of walking around a green expanse that belonged to the British Royal family, but now, he’d take whatever opportunity he could to delay ending this day and simply be with Henry for a while longer.

“You know,” Alex muses. “I think you could’ve passed for a prince in another life.”

Henry snorts. “I highly doubt I’d fit in well in that sort of… environment.”

“But look at you!” Alex exclaims playfully. “The hair, the cheekbones, the _eyes._ I mean, even your shoulder-to-waist ratio screams Prince Charming.”

Henry managed at soft chuckle. He knew Alex was complimenting him, but it’s been a long time since Henry felt truly confident in his own body. A head surgery, numerous trips to the hospital, and lots of medicines would to that to you. He still appreciates it though.

“You don’t think you’d make an excellent member of the royal family?” Alex asks, his lips slightly curling up at the corners.

“It’s not that,” Henry starts. “I’m sure a writer could fit in there somewhere, but… there’s just never been a gay prince. Not that I know of who’s gone public, of course.”

“But could you imagine a world where that’s the case?” Alex muses. “That’s fucking history.”

“I suppose it is,” Henry smiles.

Any sort of reply that Alex was thinking of saying was interrupted by a man who stationed himself near a tree and had a box in front of him as he played his violin. And of fucking course, the song had to be Henry’s song for Alex. He didn’t miss the instant Henry recognized the distinct notes of the intro to Elton John’s “Your Song.” Although his sharp intake of breath was a dead giveaway, what caught Alex’s attention more was the increasing wetness of his blue eyes. He was sure Henry could feel his stare and that was why he refused to look at Alex.

“We should probably—”

“I want to hear it,” Alex tells him firmly.

There was a pang in chest as he watches Henry take a few steps back and busied himself with the other things he could look at at the gardens, but Alex stayed where he was and let himself be washed away with the melody of the song. He hasn’t listened to it for years for obvious reasons, and hearing it now makes Alex wish, not for the first time today, that they were the couple they once were. That it was okay for him to take Henry’s hand and dance with him in front of the small crowd that gathered near the man with his violin. That he could still wake up to Henry playing the piano back at the brownstone and lean his head on his shoulder, sleep still clouding his mind.

When the man finished the song, everyone was clapping and cheering him for more. Alex knew it was finally time to go. He steps forward, drops some spare change in the man’s box, and says to him, “You were great, man.”

Then he walks back towards Henry, purposely making his presence known even from a few steps away so that he’d have time to regain his composure before having to face Alex again. The action wasn’t lost on him when he saw Henry quickly wiping away his tears on the sleeve of his coat. Alex didn’t say anything. He simply takes Henry’s hand, and this time, Alex was the one who leads them back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added a new chapter to the story (it's gonna be 9 chapters now, but we'll still see it if changes) because as it turns out, I suck at outlines hahaha. Anyway, thank you for all the support you've showed to this work!!! So so grateful <3

**Author's Note:**

> hey, thank you for reading this!! i've no update schedule, but i hope you'll still stick around for what comes next :) kudos and comments are appreciated <3
> 
> also, i'm peppermint-patties on tumblr!


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